


Questions

by frogats



Category: Half-Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware - Fandom
Genre: Mild Hurt/Comfort, i guess ? Gordon thinks very hard and talks it out at the end, very self indulgent . Perhaps a bit rushed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29330337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogats/pseuds/frogats
Summary: Gordon’s been having memory issues since black mesa.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	Questions

**Author's Note:**

> first fic ! Ever. This is the first writing I have pushed myself to finish in many many years, and the first I’ve ever posted.
> 
> It is very early in the morning and I’m on my phone, promise I’ll edit it to look nicer as soon as I figure out how to do that

There was a question burning a hole in Gordon’s brain.

He was sitting with Tommy, listening to one of his decently rare rambles while the others ordered food. He liked listening, especially so to Tommy, but his hand itched where it rested on the table and his foot tapped as whatever was in his head smoldered, seemingly trying to work its way down and onto his tongue. Even if it were to get there he wouldn’t let himself ask. It would lead into the next question, and the next, and the next.

He wouldn’t wish his seemingly endless hunger for knowledge on anybody, avoiding making eye contact in hopes that the burning would fizzle out.

* * *

He’d had this conversation before.

“Gordon, don’t you remember?” _’No! I don’t, actually!!!’_ something in Gordon screamed, twisting and writhing and leaving part of his brain feeling burnt in a way that’d become far too familiar as of late. Bubby had stopped his pacing and shot Gordon with a cocked eyebrow. He bit his tongue “It kinda slipped my mind, man! Can’t imagine why!”

Bubby simply rolled their eyes and picked up their rant again. Maybe Gordon could’ve bitten his tongue harder.

* * *

The ceiling was a different color than the walls, he’d noticed. It’s only a little bit— and perhaps it was the lighting from the nightlight he had on— but his ceiling looked a shade or two off from the wall.

With a sigh, he turned over in bed and stared into the small warm light across the room. _’we found bubby in the tube, and_ then _it was the conveyers... no, no.’_

Gordon groaned, rubbing his eyes with his hand. He wanted so, so badly to be able to let it go, Coomer’s concerned voice from earlier today echoing in his head.

_”Perhaps it’s better not knowing. This is only natural, Gordon.”_

Right. There’s a reason for all of this, he just— whatever. He turned onto his other side and pointedly ignored the time on the clock.

* * *

Dr. Freeman was going to lose it.

Mr. Freeman. Gordos. Feetman. Gorgon.

“Gordon?”

Benry was standing next to him, the arm that wasn’t holding a red solo cup loose at his side. So close, but not touching. His head felt full of smoke. “You’re zoning bro.”

“Yeah, sorry, didn’t sleep great.” He wasn’t lying. Glancing across the yard, everything seemed to be in order. Joshua and Sunkist were running around while Tommy watched, Bubby and Coomer were speaking loudly by the grill— maybe he should pay that a bit more mind— and Benry was right next to him.

Something about the way Gordon looked down at him was giving him deja-vu and he could feel the offending hole in his brain getting hotter, spreading faster. “I’m gonna head inside for a sec.”

And he did, definitely ignoring the strange look Benry threw at his back.

* * *

It was cooler inside, and he wasn’t sure how long he spent standing alone in Tommy’s kitchen.

Gordon knew he’d been acting strange, but it was hard not to with whatever’s been going on in his head. It’s been years at this point— it was a little hard to believe, honestly— but for some reason, he’d only just now developed some sort of insatiable curiosity.

But if it were just curiosity he wouldn’t have any trouble asking. He _needed_ to know. He felt like not knowing was burning him up inside. It was something to do with trauma and processing, he’d been going to therapy for long enough to know that, and he would hate to put that on even one of his friends when he was already getting professional help.

Gordon also knows that they worry anyways. He knows _they_ know that his memory bothers him, but he just doesn’t have the heart to bring it up himself. Again.

He swirled his drink for no reason, there was just melting ice in there now, trying to look casual as Coomer very loudly joined him. “Ah, hello Gordon!”

“Hi Dr. Coomer.” he smiled, the man’s tone was infectious. “Are you quite alright?” and straight to the point as ever.

“Of course, nothing I can’t handle.”

Coomer gave him a similar look to the one he got outside. He could feel himself deflating a bit.“Well... it’s okay to confide in your friends sometimes. I’m sure you know we all care about you a great deal. _I_ care about you, Gordon.”

He stared down into his cup, nodding dumbly. He could feel the burning again, but in his chest now, lacing along what was left of his arms and pulsing through his legs. When did it get so deep? Coomer waited while he turned over his thoughts.

“I _know_ what you said about letting it go... but I just can’t remember what happened during that week, and I feel like I HAVE to, or something bad is gonna happen,” his voice was too quiet, too tired. He hated it. “Or- no, I do remember. I remember a lot about the resonance cascade and I remember a lot of what happened after it! It’s just... out of order. _Everything_ is out of order.”

He chuckled humorlessly, “It’s not just Black Mesa, Dr. Coomer it’s— it’s all of it. When I was a kid... I can’t remember what happened when. Same with the past couple of years.” He set down his cup, tired of the cold on his hand. “You all know how forgetful I am. I just... I want to know. I have to. I can’t figure it out on my own, though.”

He played with his prosthetic, mindlessly and gently twisting his fingers while he let Coomer think. This wasn't some sort of crying, high-tension admittance of weakness- he had had enough of those to last a lifetime- but he still felt a bit raw. Vulnerable.

Coomer hummed, and then there were hands on his shoulders. "Dr. Freeman," he barely got a chance to meet his eyes before he was being pulled in for a hug, smiling as he felt Coomer's voice rumbling in his chest. "if you have _any_ questions I would be more than happy to answer them as well as I am capable, and I am _very_ capable, Gordon!"

Gordon laughed, heartfelt this time, finally lifting his arms to return the hug. "Thank you... I- thanks."

At some point, they pulled away, but they stayed in the kitchen and talked, eventually being joined by the others. Gordon still had questions, but the flame dimmed and a pressure lifted as he finally breathed for the first time in weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> Theree it is :] based entirely on my own memory issues and put together pretty quickly, so I’m sorry if it’s strange or seems out of order ! This was not beta-read because I think I would die if I were to ask. I prommy I do want to improve my writing though
> 
> Let me know if I should tag anything !


End file.
